HUGE Update (About time too!)

I haven't blogged here in seven months! I apologize! Life got busy: graduate school, etc.

Potentially the biggest piece of information is that I have a new boyfriend; he has chosen to be referred to as JS.  We have been dating for six months, so I suppose he's not exactly "new", but we are taking our relationship very slowly: his pace.  I know from experience in his position, a relationship really must go at the slower person's pace; both people need to be comfortable.  JS and I are doing our first overnight, at my apartment, this coming Sabbath.  I will feed him Sabbath dinner, with all the rituals (JS himself is not nearly as religious as I am, but I need the rituals; and his sister is Orthodox and he has hung out with her on the Sabbath, so he knows the rituals), and then we will go to my wonderful synagogue Saturday morning.

Second of all: Yes, I can walk to the synagogue now! Last August 27 and October 4, I had spinal cord stimulators inserted.  As long as I keep them charged (takes about a half an hour per stimulator per day) they take away 70-80% of my pain.  I am fully functional now, routinely walking over a mile and taking my own notes in school.  Nobody knew what the results would be; we just knew I was desperate and this was our best shot.  Everybody told me that if I got 50% relief, I would be doing well.  So naturally, when I realized what the results would be, everyone--I, friends, family, doctors, company representative who helps with the mechanics--was thrilled.

Lastly, I have two new kippot.  One is a small, pale blue satin from a Bat Mitzvah; the other is a heavy, navy blue material with a print of pink and blue flowers and green leaves.  JS let me pick out the second one, and he bought it for me, as a birthday gift.  He knows how to make me happy!

Below is a picture of the two new kippot.

I hope to now be back to regular blogging.

God Things

*There could have been a more "flowery" title for this post, but I think this one is most starkly effective.*

I have a couple of arrangements going on in my life right now that I could never have arranged on my own; it's all God.  It has to be.  They're working so perfectly, there's no other possible explanation.

One is where I am career wise right now.  There are so many careers that are closed to me, simply because I could not complete the schooling while getting enough sleep to stay mentally well.  Medical school, law school, Rabbinical school: no way. And yet, I have found a career that brings me joy, and whose schooling I can complete.  I am capable of being a teacher, and getting my Master's in the field.  This cannot be coincidence; it's God.

The other is about my special kippah.  You may recall that if I wear my gold silk kippah I have an extra shot at getting close to God.  I plan to wear it tomorrow just for that.  I really cannot wear it on a Sabbath or holiday, just in case; but on an ordinary weekday I can and will.

I love my God, and all S/He does for me; I really do want to "pay back" with my end of the connection.

That is all.

52!

I know I haven't been blogging as well as I hoped to/indicated I would back in June.  That's because a lot of what's been going on with me has been health related, and I'm much more private about that than I used to be.  Suffice to say it's amazing news, and I'm looking at no longer being in pain AT ALL very soon.  But anyway.  This post is not about that.

This post is about my new kippah, number 52! It is the one I ordered off the Yair Emanuel site that never came.  Just a few weeks ago, I found it on a different site (shout out for Ben's Tallit Shop!) and my parents gave me the money to get it.  I have since discovered that between Ben's Tallit Shop and Judaica Place, the full line of Emanuel kippot is available, and I can go back to collecting them.

This kippah is, bar none, the most beautiful kippah I have ever seen and my new favorite of my whole collection.  The colors are much more rich and vibrant than they were in the website picture: There is a purple, a blue, and an aqua so deep it is almost green.  There are also silver threads throughout; in my opinion, just the right amount of silver, rich accents without being overwhelming.

The kippah has a stylized Jerusalem scene using all the colors on top, with a border around it with flowers (or maybe pomegranates) in all the colors, on a white background.  Along the sides that come vertically down are more stylized Jerusalem buildings; the amazing thing, which I did not know until I opened and examined the kippah last night, is that none of these buildings repeat! That's right--the entire border is made up of unique buildings.

I am saving this kippah to wear the second night of Rosh HaShanah, the New Year.  There is a lovely tradition of having something new, such as a clothing item or a fruit, for the second night.  It's an Orthodox tradition that I "stole" from my college friends.  I try to do this every year, but the last time I managed was 2015, when I had a new caramel "suede" skirt.  The second night of Rosh HaShanah this year is September 10th; I am already counting down.

And here are the pictures I took of my new kippah.

The top: the scene in the middle, and the white border with flowers/pomegranates.

Going around the sides...the back seam...

The next building...

Next...

This one has a silver top.  It shows up as white on the camera.

Continuing around...

More...

And more...

Another building with a silver top.  It's a hard line to toe, putting in the silver threads without the kippah being totally sparkly.  Emanuel did a good job with the design.

Representative Yarmulke Showcase

Every once in a while in the past, I have photographed my entire yarmulke collection and shared it here.  With the collection the size that it is, that seems too complicated to do again; and plus I don't know how much you, my readers, really care.

Instead, over the course of last week, I photographed the yarmulke I wore each day.  What results is a representative showcase of my collection.  Enjoy!

This happens to be the first one I ever got, a gift from my father when I was eight years old.  It is small enough to be what I call a "business size" yarmulke.

This was part of my college graduation gift; it...is...covered...in...PENGUINS!!! I found it on Etsy.  It is also "business size."

Hand embroidered silk, by Israeli designer Yair Emanuel.  I have to say, I find his designs to be the prettiest I have seen anywhere.

And another hand embroidered silk,Yair Emanuel.  I specifically bought this one to go with undergrad university t-shirts.  (They are red.)

This is a "Bar Mitzvah Beanie:" a cheap satin freebie from a Bar Mitzvah.  This week, I wore this one to go with...

...my new light blue skirt! Here are the two together:

And a hand-painted silk Yair Emanuel.  I often think this is the prettiest yarmulke I own.  Mind you, the background was supposed to be blue, but that's OK.

And, finally, gay pride (also business size).

I know I've shown these here before, but that was several years ago.  These are my Sabbath/festival bobby pins; yesterday I used them with my gay pride yarmulke.

God's Plan (Not Mine)

I have been enjoying rereading old entries on this blog.  As I move backwards through the years, one contrast between Younger Me and Current Me really stands out: Younger Me thought I knew God's plans for my life.  As of 2014 (I would have been 21 years old), I thought I knew that I would one day become a Rabbi--through the Jewish Theological Seminary (JTS), no less--and that I would adopt a little girl with Down Syndrome, hopefully from Eastern Europe.

Current Me, 2018, 25 year old me, understands that I really do not know God's plans at all! Not only am I not a student at JTS, I am not even on track to become a Rabbi at all.  I have also decided--for myself or with God's help; it's kind of hard to tell sometimes--that it is better for everyone if I never have children of my own.  I am making up for this by planning a career as an early childhood educator.

You know what? It honestly feels freeing to know that I cannot predict the future.  If my 2014 plans have been abandoned by 2018, perhaps my 2018 plans will be abandoned by 2222.  You would think knowing that I know nothing about my future would cause panic, but actually, I find it relaxing.

I don't need to know what my life will look like four years from now to know that I am on the best path I can make out in order to get there.  I plan to have the best future I can have, but I don't need to know what that looks like yet.

God's Big, Small, Wonderful World

I am violating my new one-post-a-day rule; sorry-not-sorry! This is a post I have been waiting a few days to write, and I am excited.

There is a blogger who blogs at One Thankful Mom (onethankfulmom.com); her name is Lisa Qualls.  Lisa is old enough to be my mother; in fact, I am the same age as a couple of her kids.  (She has 11, so it's hard to place my age exactly vis a vis them.)  Lisa and her family live in Idaho.

I do not remember how I found Lisa's blog in the first place, but I stayed because she was "telling it like it is" about her four children adopted from Ethiopia: her struggles and triumphs with them, and how she felt about it all.  At that time in my life, I believed I wanted to adopt one day, possibly internationally, so I soaked up all the information regarding adoption and post adoption life that Lisa posted on her blog.  I believed it was helping me prepare better.

Over the years, Lisa struggled most especially with one of her adopted daughters.  Somewhere along the way, I began to include this child in my daily prayers: asking God to heal her of her trauma and help her live a happier, more relaxed life. 

When this child died in a tragic car crash (injuring Lisa and leaving her husband unhurt), it didn't seem like such a big leap to pray for her family's emotional healing from her death, instead of for her directly, so I started doing that.

In recent years, I have realized that I do not want children of my own: birth, adopted, or otherwise.  I just could not be a proper parent, for a variety of reasons, primarily my own disabilities.  However, I have kept reading Lisa's blog for a different reason: her Christian faith.

Lisa is an example to me of what I would like to be in my faith.  She is Christian and I am Jewish; but we see eye-to-eye on a lot.  Her faith brings her comfort, healing, and happiness; that is what I would like mine to bring me.  The two of us pray for each other.

I titled this post the way I did because I do not believe it was a mere, trivial coincidence that brought us together.  Only God! Lisa lives in Idaho; I live in New York.  Lisa is Christian; I am Jewish.  Lisa has 11 children; I am a generation younger, right around the age of her "big kids," as she calls them.  Yet God and the internet have brought us together, and we both benefit.

Simply amazing.

Honoring my Father (One Day Late)

Yes, this post is one day late.  Sorry, Daddy! Enjoy now.

I feel as though I must honor my father this father's day (which yes, I know, was yesterday).  Where to start?

My father is the Rabbi whose authority and opinion I follow.  If I have a Jewish legal question, I go to him.  It's actually a good match because I am somewhat stricter than he is; Jewish law states that one can always be stricter than one's Rabbinic authority, just not more lenient.  Those times when I go to my father for an answer, I tend to already know he will give me the lenient opinion.  Not only that, however, he can always back it up with clear thoughts about how he got there.  Recent examples that have helped me a lot are why it's OK to use a metro card on the Sabbath if it already has the money on it (you already spent the money, and the swipe is electric), as well as why it's OK to take books out of the library on the Sabbath (it's all electronic these days, as long as you tell it not to print a receipt).

My father was also the Rabbi who saved my Judaism when I was trying to handle being queer and Jewish.  In those early years (by "early years" here, I mean from when I figured out I wasn't straight--so age 16--to sometime in college), I was compartmentalizing: I thought about and honored the Judaism sometimes, and the queerness sometimes, but never both together.  In fact, when I did think about both together, my Judaism "trickled through my fingers" and disappeared.  It was my father who pointed out that if there is an obstacle on our path to God (in my case, my sexual orientation), it did not make sense to get rid of God, it made sense to get rid of the obstacle.  Ever since, I've mostly been OK with being queer and Jewish.  It's not to say I don't have my moments; but for the most part, I am a proud bisexual Jew, and it's all thanks to my father.

My father has also contributed to my yarmulke collection.  When I was younger, he brought home two kippot s'rugot (Hebrew for crocheted yarmulke) from Rabbinical Assembly conventions.  The one he brought home when I was eight years old is hard to describe, but it's beautiful, and I will share a picture of it here in an upcoming entry I am planning.  The one he brought home when I was ten years old has a flower design, each petal a different color.  More recently, he brought me two "Bat Mitzvah Beanies" (our family's term for freebie satin ones from B'not Mitzvah), one in pink and one in purple, from a B'not Mitzvah celebration for twin girls.

Which reminds me, all those years ago (13 years ago), my father trained me for my own Bat Mitzvah.  I learned the Torah reading backwards, so that in case I couldn't finish learning it in time, I would be the last reader instead of the first.  I learned my Prophets portion.  I learned how to lead a service.  And because of my father's tutoring, I was able to get up in front of a congregation on my Bat Mitzvah day, and lead an entire service, start to finish.

This entry wouldn't be complete without mentioning that my father also transports me to medical appointments.  When I was doing Ketamine infusions and had to be at a hospital in New Jersey every morning, my father drove me back and forth from Brooklyn, often involving the Holland Tunnel at morning rush hour.  When I was in the hospital in Brooklyn for five days in September 2016, he came down and housed himself in my apartment so he could spend time at the hospital with me.  He will transport me back to that same hospital in Newark for my upcoming stimulator surgeries.

SO THANK YOU, DADDY, FOR EVERYTHING!!!

💖💗💕💓💝